##

With Argrave’s feet growing colder the more brew Vasilisa downed, they did eventually depart from the inn and head for the tower. Unlike most of the other places associated with the Order, this place was a private residence, meaning it did not have the same restrictions that barred non-members from entering within. They were granted entry without a fuss, and quickly boarded the central elevator.

“I’ve never seen something like this,” marveled Argrave as the central stone elevator transported them up the floors of Ivan’s tower. They were packed quite tightly on one platform. He was lying, of course. He was good at that.

“Just enchantments,” Vasilisa said almost idly. “Certainly nothing to gape at.”

The elevator reached the floor that they desired, and the stone platform clicked against the side of the wall before coming to a stop. Vasilisa took a certain step off.

The room on the other side was fairly ostentatious. The great majority of it had been lined with decadent furs and fine fabrics from further south—velvet, cottons, silks, and the like. It made the place seem stuffy visually, yet the inside was quite a pleasant temperature compared to the coldness outside.

Magister Ivan sat on a couch, leaning far back into it. A table straddled his body, both of his arms resting atop it as he read. When Vasilisa entered, he turned his head towards her but did not make to rise. Like many in the north, he had blonde hair and blue eyes. From the look of him, he was rather tall and slim. He wore loose-fitting robes, well-fit for this temperate room of relaxation.

“Margrave Ivan,” Vasilisa greeted stiffly.

“Vasilisa,” he returned. “I thought I told you to call me Ivan?”

“You did,” she admitted.

Ivan chuckled, setting his writing implement down. “These three… your friends, you said?”

“They are,” Vasilisa confirmed.

Letting out another laugh, Ivan picked up the table over his body and moved it, delicately balancing the paper and writing implement atop it. He set it on the floor and stood. He seemed to pay the three of them little regard, being interested in only Vasilisa.

“I’m told you came here to talk about Quadreign’s debt to me,” he said, then raised a finger before Vasilisa could respond. “Before you say anything… I want to offer you something.”

Vasilisa frowned. “What?”

“I want to give you an offer to reduce your house’s debt,” he explained, holding his arms wide. His robes came loose a little, and he quickly corrected that before anything untoward could occur.

“Reduce it? Why? What would I have to do?” Vasilisa frowned.

“A Magister is coming to visit soon,” Ivan continued. “Now… I’m not sure of this person’s nature. All I’d like for you to do is mention your house’s debt while they’re present. This person… if it were me, alone, they might get some overambitious ideas. They’ll surely get no such greedy mindset if they know I have a Magister under debt.”

Argrave took a deep breath, shocked that his gambit to locate Traugott worked out so well. The Magister surely wouldn’t recognize Argrave or his companions—he’d never seen them before. Given how Vasilisa and he had interacted… it might pose problems, though. Argrave looked to the Magister. Her jaw was clenched tight. Belatedly, Argrave realized this wasn’t about safety at all. Ivan allowed the three of them to come up alongside without issue. All he wanted was to get word of Quadreign’s debt to a Magister.

“…who is coming?” Vasilisa questioned.

“Ah, good question.” Ivan waved his hand, then stepped away. He walked up to a curtain and then tossed it aside, revealing a desk just beyond. After opening a drawer, he retrieved a paper. “Looks like… ah. I even misremembered it. Must’ve been because I got another note earlier about Magister Traugott…” Ivan looked up. “Magisters Hegazar and Vera are coming, under the direction of Master Castro himself.”

And in moments, Argrave was shocked his gambit worked out so poorly.


chapter-292

A knock came at the door to the guest house, and Galamon stepped away to answer it. Once he did, Vasilisa stood on the other side. She looked about the room and then declared, “I won’t act unless I’m confident in what you plan to do.”

Argrave had been reviewing some of his writing in his notebook about Llewellen’s lecture on the dwarven musical cube. He closed the book, rose to his feet, and stated, “That was rather prompt. Not as though that’s a bad thing, of course. I don’t think confidence in my plan is going to be a problem, unless you’re someone who is unusually timid. I made it this far.”

The blonde Magister shook her head. “I don’t get your optimism, Silvaden. I do hope it’s worth more than just words. They’re all you’ve given me thus far—promises that Ivan stole the flame, promises that we can take it back, promises that we can beat the Magister in his own territory…” Vasilisa trailed off as she spotted Argrave putting a backpack over his shoulder. “Are you… already packed?”

Argrave nodded. “Well, I was rather optimistic about your answer. And would you look at that? I was right.” He smiled broadly. “I think you can take that as a sign of what’s to come.”

chapter-292
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